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PlunderAsunder Oct 2014
A rhyme for a time, if time had a rhyme
I assure you now it will not be kind
For your skin is pale, your smile does rot
Freckles cover enough to plot
Your hair is tangled, your clothes lay askew
Distract the sight from your eyes so blue
Your nails are scratched with dirt stuck beneath
Match the yellowed plaster of your teeth
Those lips are a gasped –a question of wonder
Mirrors the sky that you keep under
Crumbled are the leaves in which you lay
You cannot move, you know only to stay
And as I stare I cannot help but think
Who did you move to drive to the brink?
But the more that I look it all becomes clear
It is not me –not me you should fear
So as I set out of the woods, I creep
As you embrace the arms of that darkened sleep
Looking away, seeing no more of your hue
I leave you alone where that someone left you
PlunderAsunder Oct 2014
A storm cloud rolled over the mid-morning field
–the infallible will of nature’s hand

Things were about to get slippery

— The End —